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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27777328">unchallenged, unsubdued</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTooManyDots/pseuds/OneTooManyDots'>OneTooManyDots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom Claude von Riegan, M/M, Sub Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, but only vaguely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:07:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27777328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTooManyDots/pseuds/OneTooManyDots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorenz had a problem. Claude let himself be convinced to become the solution.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lorenz didn’t pray, not really. He bowed his head, and said the words, but that’s all there was to it. It was simply the correct thing to do: you addressed royalty by their proper titles to show that you acknowledge their position, you asked after your fellow nobles’ most prominent relatives to show that you know who they are and the place they occupy, and you prayed to the Goddess to show the Church proper respect. There was no reverence in it. Perhaps this was yet another way Lorenz perfectly embodied Alliance nobility; Leicester nobles didn’t kneel, not to kings, not to emperors, and not even to gods.</p>
<p>Did this make him more powerful than the Goddess herself, Claude wondered, as he studied Lorenz’s naked form over the edge of his book. But, no, he knew Lorenz better than that. While Claude was sure Lorenz had it in him to worship, there was no true reverence here, either, and not enough humility. There was unmistakable pride in the way Lorenz kneeled, back straight and chest pushed out, hands clasped behind his back as if he was bound this way, eyes fixed as if unseeing on a point in front of him beyond the wall. There was confidence in the wide spread of Lorenz’s knees, in the slight upward curve of his mouth, as he sat there secure in his knowledge that no one could look at him and find him wanting.</p>
<p>A perfectly attractive picture of submission, Claude had to admit, if only on the surface. He could see how Lorenz’s polished presentation managed to fool others before him. Because of course there must have been many others, all of them fools, for Lorenz to have finally come to him. He had been confused by that at first, and skeptical when Lorenz told him that no one else would do. Lorenz’s willingness to submit was so sincere, how hard could it be to actually make him do it? He worried it would be too easy for him to get much out of it, since he preferred to work people open like puzzle boxes, to poke and prod until he found where to push and what to twist to make them come apart and get to the precious things hidden inside. But now he thought he understood how it was true, even if Lorenz was wrong about it being a question of status. Leicester nobles didn’t kneel to each other, either.</p>
<p>Lorenz’s attitude told a story that went something like this: he had decided, a long time ago, that he knew exactly what submission looked and sounded like. He had practiced and practiced, and gotten really good at holding pretty poses and saying pretty words and whatever other skill he thought a good submissive should have. He got praised for it, because who didn’t like pretty poses and pretty words? He did look so very pretty kneeling like that. And when that didn’t scratch the itch – and it must not have, because as long as he had known him, Lorenz had always acted like someone with an itch that desperately needed scratching – he had blamed the other party, or, after losing some of his arrogance and gaining some insight, had blamed a bad match.</p>
<p>Of course, Claude knew better than to act on an untested theory when his most precarious friendship was at stake, but there were ways for him to test this one. He put his book down noisily on the side table, noticing how Lorenz kept flawlessly still. Practiced, indeed.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if this is going to work out,” Claude said. At that, Lorenz turned his head towards him, obviously trying not to frown. “You’re not giving me what I want.”</p>
<p>Oh yes, the genuine surprise on Lorenz’s face told the whole story, as did the brief flash of annoyance. Claude took note of the fact that Lorenz didn’t talk back, despite visibly tensing. So much practice, so much discipline, and for what? What a waste.</p>
<p>It was easy to imagine Lorenz stubbornly sticking with it, submitting in all the ways he thought he should and was good at, getting praised and rewarded for it, being left unsatisfied, finding a new dominant, and doing it all over again. Wondering why nothing worked as he kept doing the exact same things over and over. Maybe this was about status, after all. Who would dare push the esteemed heir of House Gloucester around when he didn’t know to ask for it? It would be almost funny if Claude hadn’t witnessed first hand how frustrated and restless Lorenz was becoming from it.</p>
<p>He rolled from the bed and got up, and Lorenz’s gaze silently followed him as he went to sit on the floor. He rested his chin on his hand, and answered the question Lorenz didn’t ask out loud. “For one, you know I’ve never been one for protocol.”</p>
<p>Lorenz didn’t open his mouth to argue, but he had to have a lot to say about the way Claude was hunched over and smiling up at him. Claude couldn’t wait to find out what he needed to do to get him to tell him, and to make him shut up again.</p>
<p>“But aside from that, you’re looking way too comfortable for my liking. I’m sure I’m not the only one here who likes a challenge. So.” He got back up. “Let’s do something else.”</p>
<p>Lorenz looked up at him, his expression somewhat apprehensive but mostly <em>starved.</em> If he knew what to beg for, he might have tried begging for it right then, but Claude was becoming increasingly certain that he didn’t. Which suited him just fine, the most challenging puzzles were usually the ones no one else had found the solution to yet.</p>
<p>Claude held out his hand, ready to pull Lorenz up. Whether Lorenz took it or waited for Claude to order him up correctly would be his first hint, and he would decide where to go from there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There didn’t exist a force great enough, in all of Fódlan and beyond, to compel Claude von Riegan to follow the rituals and customs of nobility. It wasn’t for lack of someone trying, for the Goddess knew Lorenz had tried. It was only for the best, then, that, over the years, childish contrariness had evolved into something more akin to authority. While the boy Claude used to be made a game of bending the rules, the man Claude had become examined each one with detached curiosity, and simply discarded the ones that didn’t suit. Of course, he still sometimes made it into a game, if only to remind his audience that he could wield power with enough ease to play with it like a toy.</p><p>There he was again, tossing the rules that made up the very fabric of Lorenz’s life aside as effortlessly as if they weighted nothing. Lorenz had expected nothing less, and he didn’t let it faze him. When he entered Claude’s room, at the exact time he was told, and found Claude lounging in bed with almost regal indifference, Lorenz didn’t leave. When Claude greeted him with a smile and a wave, Lorenz bowed. Even when Claude barely spared him a glance before turning back to his book, even if the way he asked Lorenz to wait didn’t quite sound like an order, Lorenz undressed, and he kneeled. He could still play his part, even if Claude refused to play his own. A game was all this was, and not an unfamiliar one.</p><p>And if, as he kneeled in the middle of Claude’s floor, he ached in ways he hadn’t since he was young and the rituals of submission were new, if the rug burned under his legs, if his hands were clenched behind his back too tight, if his shoulders cramped, all of it was fine. This was why it had to be Claude, wasn’t it? Precisely because it hurt. Of all the people Lorenz couldn’t afford to let himself submit to, their relative positions being what they were, Claude was one he had always been especially careful about. It was because of how precariously close Claude had come, at times, to making him yield, that Lorenz had needed to make resistance into so ingrained a habit. Despite knowing this, or because he did, it was Claude Lorenz had gone to when his need became too great to ignore. Perhaps the effort needed to be bitter, for the reward to be sufficiently sweet.</p><p>Therefore, when he kneeled under Claude’s scrutiny, listening for the whisper of a page or the rustling of the bed sheets, he did so with his head held high. When he heard Claude put his book down with a thump, he almost shivered in anticipation. Now that he had Lorenz willing, Claude was sure to know how to make it worth their while.</p><p>Then Claude said, “I don’t know if this is going to work out.”</p><p>Despite himself, Lorenz turned, and their eyes met.</p><p>“You’re not giving me what I want,” he continued evenly.</p><p>In the moment before his indignation caught up to his surprise, Lorenz found himself wishing he had paid closer attention to the gossip. The new Duke Riegan was said to be private about his affairs, personal or otherwise, but even his carefully cultivated aura of mystery couldn’t stop the whole of Leicester from gossiping about his tastes. Some of it was coming back to Lorenz now, although all of it was quite vague. He was easily pleased, some presumed, from his willingness to try anyone once. He was easily bored, others suspected, from how he had yet to keep anyone long. The former had been proved incorrect, as Lorenz had already managed to displease him somehow, despite his faultless conduct. If the latter was true, then Lorenz should proceed carefully. He wasn’t convinced that Claude liked him enough to do this purely out of friendship, their history being what it was, and he didn’t have many more unexplored options.</p><p>Then he remembered that this was Claude, that any insult out of his mouth was intentional, and the anger came. He swallowed it back. This game, too, was familiar, but the urge to play along wasn’t stronger than Lorenz’s discipline.</p><p>Claude got off the bed only to sit on the floor, crossed-legs, so close that their knees almost touched. He rested his chin on one hand and looked up, and Lorenz’s vision was filled with green. It occurred to him, belatedly, that it was improper of him to be looking into Claude’s eyes so much. He redirected his gaze lower. That, too, felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable, like turning his back during a duel.</p><p>“For one, you know I’ve never been one for protocol.”</p><p>Lorenz willed himself not to react. He wasn’t the one whose decorum was out of place.</p><p>“But aside from that, you’re looking way too comfortable for my liking. I’m sure I’m not the only one here who likes a challenge. So.” He got back to his feet. Lorenz’s eyes followed him up, against all propriety. “Let’s do something else.”</p><p>“What do you know of comfort,” Lorenz managed not to ask, despite the tension building along his spine, the soreness in his shoulders, “and of challenges?” He should have known how this would go. How like Claude, to want to make this harder, instead of making it easy. When had he ever given Lorenz anything without a struggle?</p><p>Claude offered his hand, but Lorenz knew better than to take it. This had to be another test, like the one Lorenz already failed. It could also be a trap, but to assume so would be to accept defeat. Only if this was a test would there be a correct answer.</p><p>Claude’s smile didn’t give Lorenz the slightest hint, but that wasn’t enough to deter him. Every game had rules, even the ones Claude made up. Lorenz would figure them out, and Claude would let him have what he needed.</p>
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